Drunk
by TelevisionSlave
Summary: When Beckett doesn't answer her phone, Castle goes over to her apartment. He finds her drunk and in the mood. When she tries to get into his pants, Castle is faced with a choice. And then the next morning.
1. Chapter 1

It had been a long day. Beckett and I had worked our best on a case about a dead teenage girl all week. Someone had raped and shot this girl. Beckett had became obsessed with the case and it got personal. We found the murderer, everyone knew it was him. But we didn't have enough evidence to convict his ass in court. I could tell Beckett was devastated and angry, at the killer and herself.

After court she stormed out of the precinct and to her apartment. I tried calling her multiple times but it would just lead to voicemail. Finally I took a taxi cab over to her place and knocked on the door. I stood there for about a minute, waiting. When I was about to admit defeat and turn around to go home, the door opened. Beckett stood at the doorway, her arm holding onto it like she needed it for support.

"Why hello, Kitten...What brings you to my place?" She giggled, stepping back to give me room to enter. I stepped into her apartment and looked around. Empty bottles of beer were on the table and I could smell the alcohol from here. God, how much did she drink?

I stared at her, "Beckett, you're drunk." She flashed me a goofy smile and walked over to her refrigerator. Opening it, she pulled out a bottle of Blue Moon.

Walking over to me she waved the beer in my face, "Well, aren't you turning into a lil' detective, Ricky boy? Do you want one?" She tried to hand me a bottle, but I waved my hands away as if to say, 'no thank you'.

Shrugging, Beckett opened a bottle and took a large sip, "More for mee."

"Why'd you get so drunk, Beckett? You don't seem like the drinking type." I took a step closer toward her, dreading her answer. Deep down, I knew why, I just needed some form of confermination. I slowly took the drink from her hand and set it down, surprised when she didn't protest.

"Why do ya think? I failed that case. Duhhh." She slurred, coming closer to me. With a few steps she was inside my personal space, a silly grin on her face, "Why do ya care bout it?"

"Because I'm worried about you, Beckett." I answered, taking a few steps back. With every step I took back she took forward. Finally I was backed all the way to the wall. She slowly put one of her hands on my chest, tracing her finger on my shirt. I shifted uncomfortably and gently pushed her hand away, "Listen, Be-" I stopped myself and used her first name instead, "Kate, you need to get some rest and sober up."

"Aw...tuff ol' Ricky is worried about lil' me. How sweet." She giggled and moved closer to me, putting her hand back on my chest. This time she slowly slid it down until it was nearly on my pants, "You know what I wanna to do? You know what I realla wanna do?" She got even closer to me, if that was possible. Her hand slid down onto my belt buckle, gently tugging at it.

Oh God, how much could she have possibly drunk to be doing this? It isn't right, she's drunk and not in a mental state where she could decide what she wanted. Her consent would be worthless. But on the other side she probably wouldn't even remember it if I...had my way with her. No, what the hell am I thinking? She'd never forgive me if I took advantage of her like this. And besides, I'm not that low.

"No, Kate. We're not going to do this. I will not take advantage of your drunken state. You'd never forgive me if I did. Do you understand?" I removed her hands from my clothing as softly as I could.

"But Wicky..." She whined and insisted, putting her hands back on my belt, "You're my kitty and I wanna fuck yu so bad. I know yu wanna fuck ma too, you've flirted with ma since the beginnin'. Come on, jus' one time, that's all." She began to rub her body against mine, trying to unbuckle my belt.

"No, Kate. I'm saying no. I'd never have sex with you while you're in this state. You're not in the right mind to make a choice about this. You need to sober up." I pushed her away from me with as little force as possible. It was hard for me not to cave into her wishes, but I used all me self-control to decline. I didn't want to do this to her unless she was completely sober.

She frowned, finally realizing what I was saying, "Why don' you wanna do mee, Ricky?" Tears welled up in her eyes and she continued angrily, "I get it, you don't like me anymore. Fine, I'll go fin' someone else to fuck." She stumbled away from me as she slurred profanities at me.

"Kate, when you sober up you'll understand." I told her, trying to block the door, her only exist. I was afraid I was going to have to physically restrain her from going out the apartment. The chances that she would try to have sex with the first hobo she saw was high and I couldn't live with myself if she did that.

"Get out of my fucking way, Ricky." She yelled at me, putting up a futile attempt to push me away. She started to hit me the best she could, but it barely hurt. She was so disoriented that most of her punches didn't even hit me. Her anger began to dissolve as more tears fell down her face.

I grabbed her wrists and softly told her, "No. I can't do that. You need to go lie down on your bed and try to fall asleep. If you don't go there yourself I'll drag you. But either way you're going. Which is it going to be?"

She pulled her wrists away from me, her cheeks wet from the drops of tears still on her face, "I'll go myself. I still don't understand why ya won't do me, though."

"You'll understand in the morning, I promise." I told her as she walked away.

"Yeah, right." She walked away from me and toward her room. I followed to make sure she was actually going there. Without pulling the covers back she crawled onto her bed and passed out when her head hit the blanket.

Sighing, I walked over to the couch in the living room and sat down. I was going to have to stay here to make sure she didn't wake up. I didn't really want to see her when she sobered up, afraid she might remember what she had tried to do and ignore me. But I was going to stay here for the night, so that would be inevitable. Making myself comfortable, I shut my eyes even though I knew I wasn't going to get any sleep.

* * *

This is just a little story I did merely for fun. I hope you enjoy it.

-TelevisionSlave


	2. Chapter 2

Much to my surprise, I did actually fall asleep around four. Maybe it was my will to get it over with, I don't know. It was a restless slumber, and what finally woke me was what I had been dreading ever since I tried to fall asleep on the couch. Beckett. I'm pretty sure I was snoring slightly, but that didn't matter. I was awakened to the achingly familiar call of my name, "Castle!"

After hearing my name called, I did my best to wake up fully. But I still half asleep, and that was definitely not helping. Opening my eyes, my vision was blurred from sleep and all I could see was an outline of what I assumed was Beckett in front of me. Damn, she was awake. Blinking back the sleepiness from my gaze, the image in front of me became more detailed and I made out the distinct look of Beckett. And boy, was it Beckett.

Her clothes were wrinkled from sleeping in them, and her hair was scattered across her face. If it was under any other circumstances, I'd probably be jotting down notes titled, 'Nikki Heat when she wakes up'. But it was under these circumstances, and that was the last thing I was thinking. Beckett's right hand was rubbing her temple, most likely from the headache she must have. The look she was giving me was of pure fury.

I stumbled into a sitting position, staring up at the angry woman standing in front of me. I put a weak smile on my face and said softly, "Wow, Beckett. You're up." Hmm...maybe stating the obvious wasn't the best thing in this situation.

Becket exploded in anger, "What the hell are you doing in my apartment, Castle?" She glared at me, narrowing her eyes angrily. It was a perfectly easy question for me to answer, but I didn't want to give a response. Giving a response would mean I'd have to tell her everything that happened last night, and that was the last thing I wanted to do.

But she did deserve an answer, and if I didn't tell her now I'd have to tell her in the future. I looked up at her, my weak smile growing weaker, "Well, um, you see, about that..."

"Spit it out, Castle." Becket hissed, taking a step closer to me. But then she winced, rubbing her temple more furiously. Now, I've had my experiences with bad hangovers, and she must have one of those. I wonder if she'll throw up. Because if she does, I'll be happy to hold her hair for her...

Stay focused. Now, where were we? Oh, yeah. I was about to sign my death wish by telling Beckett what happened last night. I hope she doesn't kill me; I'm too young and handsome to die. With a long sigh, I started to explain, "Well, last night I was worried about you, so I came over and found you drunk. You told me you were depressed because we lost that case."

Beckett narrowed her eyes even more, and I wondered what she was thinking. She looked at my suspiciously and asked, "Is that all that happened?" She probably suspects I took advantage of her; I would too in her position.

"No." I gulped, dreading what was next. "You tried to get into my pants and when I denied you, you tried to storm out the apartment. I was scared you were going to go have sex with the first hobo you saw, so I stopped you. I told you to go sleep and sober up, you proceeded to get pissed, but finally you grudgingly went to bed. I didn't want to leave you alone, so I decided to have a little sleepover."

Throughout my explanation, Beckett's eyes got wider and wider. I was getting scared that they might pop out of her sockets, but then they returned to normal and she got this unreadable expression plastered to her face. I continued to stare up at her, fidgeting nervously as I waited for her to say something. Anything.

Finally she spoke, her tone of voice forceful, "Are you sure that's what happened?"

How could I not be sure? No time to think about that. I answered, "Positive. Don't worry Beckett, you were drunk and I'm not going to, like, hold this against you. Because come on, what intoxicated woman wouldn't want a piece of this?" I grinned at her, hoping my little joke would ease up the tense atmosphere. It did.

Beckett seemed relieved that I wasn't going to make fun of her for what she did last night. She let out a sigh and gave me a little weak smile, "Well, Castle. If your story is true, and I don't doubt you on it, I want to thank you for not taking advantage."

I gave a little wave of my hand, "Naw, it's okay. I'm not that low." She didn't reply, just widened her smile a bit. She disappeared into the kitchen and I could hear her rummaging through something. When she returned a minute later, she had two Ibuprofens in her hand and a glass of water.

After she swallowed the pain killers, she told me stern tone, regaining her Beckettness, "Sorry, Castle, but you have to leave. I need to get over this hangover and take a nice bath."

"I'll help you with the bath." I quickly told her eagerly. But she shook her head, trying to hide the smile on her face. Faking a frown, I whined pitifully, "But I'd be a perfect gentleman."

"Sorry, Castle. No can do." She replied, motioning with her hands for me to leave, "Out, Castle. Don't make me get the broom." I gave a little groan but did as she ordered. When I was standing outside the door to her apartment, Beckett was about to close the door. But she paused and told me in a soft, serious tone, "Thanks Castle. For everything."

"No problem." I answered, smiling. She returned the smile, and then shut the door. After a few minutes of standing her apartment, I pulled out my notepad and pen from my pocket. I scribbled quickly on the notepad:

_Nikki Heat when she wakes up:_

And then I began to add details.

* * *

I know this ending is long overdue, and I apologize. I just didn't really know how to end this up until now, so I ignored this piece until determination got the best of me. Well, I hope you enjoy it.

-TelevisionSlave


End file.
